Sunday, June 17, 2012

Happy Part of a Leg Day

I was less than two years old when my Dad died.

I have one memory of him.

I can remember a little bit of his leg and a bit of a maroon robe he wore.

And his slippers.

He was standing by our front door.

I want to thank him for teaching me how to ride a bike.

And to play chess and Monopoly.

How to swim and how to use a lawn mower.

How to ride a horse and how to throw a baseball.

I want to thank him for teaching me how to read.

And how to make a grilled cheese sandwich.

I'd like to also thank him for teaching me to fish and for driving me to school.

For buying me my first car.

And that G. I. Joe.

Thanks Dad.

Or should I call you Mom?

6 comments:

Cake not signed in said...

Very nice...girl.

Cake again said...

(Sad but nice.)

The Beatles said...

Leg It Be.

Anonymous said...

The Ballad of Dad's Leg and Mom

beatles said...

Your Father Should Know

The ghost of Wilder Penfield said...

You go on and eat all that candy, Nopie, have a good time. Sure it'll rot your teeth, but I bet they still won't end up even half as dishevelled as your brain.